


Sherlock OOC

by Amber_Sinclair



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Comfort, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Sinclair/pseuds/Amber_Sinclair
Summary: All the characters mentioned belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them.Introduction:Sherlock Holmes (26) - The witty, arrogant and good-humoured bachelor.John Watson (26) - The witty, silent and sweet bachelor.G. Lestrade (Inspector) - A person who is jealous of Sherlock but can also praise him. Also whose first name is unknown.Stanley Hopkins (Inspector) - A guy who claims to be the student of Sherlock but has other plans.Mycroft Holmes (29) - A far more intelligent and observant person than his brother Sherlock, but is also quite stupid.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All the characters mentioned belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them.
> 
> Introduction:
> 
> Sherlock Holmes (26) - The witty, arrogant and good-humoured bachelor.
> 
> John Watson (26) - The witty, silent and sweet bachelor.
> 
> G. Lestrade (Inspector) - A person who is jealous of Sherlock but can also praise him. Also whose first name is unknown.
> 
> Stanley Hopkins (Inspector) - A guy who claims to be the student of Sherlock but has other plans.
> 
> Mycroft Holmes (29) - A far more intelligent and observant person than his brother Sherlock, but is also quite stupid.

### A Peak Into The Past 

_Someday in 2013_

I, John Watson, had to start from here so as to clear any doubt in your, i.e. reader's mind. I don’t remember everything clearly but this day will never be entirely forgotten.

Lestrade had barged into our 2BHK, annoying Sherlock who always preferred a quiet atmosphere when he was thinking.

“We gotta go to the pub,” said he, ignoring all the angry looks Sherlock sent him.

“Why?” replied Sherlock with a disgusted expression.

“I just had my third breakup in this month and if you don’t come-”

“Let’s go, Sherlock. It would relax you for a while given how disturbed you’re with this case.”

“I don’t drink,” came a curt reply from Sherlock.

“Well, you will today,” said Lestrade and dragged us out of the apartment.

“Shall I call Mycroft and Stanley as well?” asked I.

“The more the merrier,” said Sherlock, only to annoy Lestrade.

I texted both of them and they were already on their way.

Mycroft was already present and we were soon joined by a person who looked as if somebody had sucked the life out of him, i.e., Stanley.

“So, what’s the occasion?” said Mycroft and took in the whole glass.

“Lestrade got dumped _thrice_ in this month!” said Sherlock laughing as the drinks had taken over him.

“Well, all three said that they-” Lestrade was rudely interrupted by Sherlock who said, "Shut up, we aren’t here to listen to your shit. All ears my way-” said he as he took in his fifth vodka shot, “ _Dear_ brother, _dear_ John, _dear_ student and _dear weeper_ , I’ve wanted to say this since I was fifteen and I guess now’s the best time.”

“What is it, brother?” asked Mycroft with his head resting on the table.

“I’m _gay!_ " shouted Sherlock with a huge smile.

Stanley, who was very silent until now started laughing and shouted, “Me too!” and got a laugh and high-five in return from Sherlock.

Sherlock turned to me and whispered, “Now’s the time, my dear Johnny.”

“Well,” said I crossing my hands in front of my chest, “I’m gay too.” All raised their glasses and shouted ‘Cheers!’

Now we all turned towards Lestrade who had a horrible expression on his face, “No, I’m not gay. I love boobs,” said he, as if it was an achievement.

"What do you know? Maybe you’re gay that’s why none of the girls stay.” said Sherlock, his voice becoming squeaky from time to time.

Now all eyes turned to Mycroft except Sherlock’s who was still eyeing Lestrade.

“What you looking at my brother for? He’s one of the most manly man amongst us.” said Sherlock, laughing every now and then, “He lost his virginity when he was only thi-”

“Well, well that’s enough my little piece of chocolate.”

Sherlock looked really pleased at this remark and shied away and then drifted off on the table.

Me and Stanley were the only one sober. Mycroft was used to drinking and was pretty much the same. After Sherlock and Lestrade went unconscious, we concluded our little party.

Well, now let’s jump to the present.


	2. Chapter 2

### The Present: August, 2015

In the previous years Stanley proved to be a good student but he also made moves on Sherlock which weren't reciprocated by the latter for the simple reason that he didn't understand what was going on.

Our apartment was a cozy little place. My room was opposite to Sherlock's on the second floor. The first floor was accommodated by Mrs. Hudson and the ground floor was to park cars, which nobody had.

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa with his tea in his hand which wasn't to be drunk until he had made up his mind on whatever he was thinking about.

"Sherlock, I'm going to get us groceries. Will be back in an hour or so."

"Can I come?"

I couldn't believe my ears.

"What did you say? Wasn't all this a waste of your time and energies and what not?"

"Yeah, so I'm coming."

Shaking my head on my own stupidity of expecting an answer, we walked out of the apartment.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" _Why did you hit him!_ " said I, as angry as I could be.

"I thought he was going to steal our groceries." said a thoroughly dejected Sherlock.

"Who would want to steal groceries?"

"I have."

I stared at him for sometime and finally regaining the power of speech, I said, " _What?_ "

"Oh, it was when I was someone else." replied a smiling Sherlock.

"You mean an alias?"

"Quite so."

And so Sherlock returned to his case and I, at arranging the groceries.

### The Sports Tee

Sherlock was a man who always wore shirts. He always hid his spectacular body (which I thought he had, given his strength) under layers of clothes. I had bought him a number of t-shirts and yet he chose to wear his boring shirts. Last Christmas, I bought him sweatpants and a sports tee but he didn’t wear them either, so I finally gave up. As for me, I liked to be in casuals.

Sherlock had this baffling case at hand and he had requested me to come. It was almost nine in the morning and I was completely dressed but, and for the first time ever, Sherlock was late.

“ _Sherlock!_ What’s taking you so long?” shouted I from the living room.

“If you were already dressed doesn’t mean that everybody else was.” I smiled at his observation.

After about ten minutes, he came out and I was totally mesmerized.

He was wearing the grey sports tee that I had got him, black jeans and brown sneakers. His biceps were visible to me for the first time- which were just _OH MY GOD_ , his pectorals were almost tearing the tee. To easily paint a picture of him for you guys - he looked like Chris Evans from _Age of Ultron_ whilst chopping wood.

“You’re so not going to wear that,” said I.

“But I guess, I will.” said he walking out of the door.

"But Stanley would be there and-"

It was no use as he was already downstairs and I heard the main door close. I followed him hurriedly. He already had a taxi ready and was getting in when I came down. I couldn't take my eyes off him while he was engrossed in his case.

"Why did you wear it?" asked I.

"Why did you buy it for me? To wear, right?"

"But, you- you-"

"What?" asked he and looked straight into my eyes. This was the first time I realized that I had feelings for him. I hastily looked away, thanking the weather that at least he had his black jacket on. We were soon at the crime scene. I knew nothing of the case except that it was baffling.

Hopkins and a few others were already there. The room was too hot and Sherlock was already out of his jacket and much to my disappointment Stanley saw him and uttered _hot_ , to which Sherlock replied, "Yes, it's so hot in here. Somebody please go and check the thermostat."

I snickered a bit but was crying inside.

I turned my attention to the crime scene, might as well do some work. In a minute I realized there was no body. "Where's the body?" announced I, not really expecting any answer from anyone. "Trust- no- you- I know-" began Sherlock and Stanley together.

"What?" said I, not able to catch much other than the aforementioned words. Sherlock glanced towards Stanley clearly stating _shut the fuck up_. "Trust me, John, you wouldn't want to see it. Everyone either fainted or puked after looking at it, except me of course." said Sherlock, immersed in his investigation which involved bending in weird positions to which Stanley kept staring and it further annoyed me. Not even thinking about it, I said, which I thoroughly regret, "I want to see it, well, um while describing the case we need a body, right?”

It was after two hours of a lot of investigation and thinking, some flirting and rejection that we left the premises for the morgue and Sherlock seemed excited. "Are you happy to see the body again or you picked up any leads?" asked I, adjusting myself in the uncomfortable seats of the cab, to which I got the reply, "Both!"

I was very annoyed at Stanley, who didn't miss a chance to flirt and touch Sherlock. "Why do you work with that Stanley?" asked I, after an awkward silence, well maybe only awkward for me.

Sherlock, who was a bit surprised by my question, said "He brings me cases which are peculiar. Why?"

"It's nothing." said I and for the rest of the ride stared out of the window. Sherlock looked at me for awhile and then got back to thinking about the case.

I handed over the file to the diener but she didn't even notice it as she recognized Sherlock. Letting out a sigh, I followed Sherlock. He seemed to perfectly remember where the body was kept and opened it himself. I lifted the sheet off of it's face and understood what the other people went through. My hand just froze somewhere over it. Not that I hadn't seen ghastly wounds but this was, just a ghastly face. It was a woman, in her late twenties or so, eyes still open. The horror was in her neck. It was unusually long and halfway through, it suddenly bent a good forty-five degrees. Her face also had the most wretched expression as if some inhumanly power caused her end.

"Interesting. Have you frozen in shock or you really don't mind it's appearance?" muttered Sherlock while trying to bend her neck.

As he said it, I dropped the sheet and took to the nearby chair. I tried not to think about it and drew in huge breaths to calm myself down. There goes tonight's sleep. He quickly covered it and threw it back in it's place. He looked at me for sometime with that analyzing look of his. "I'm fine. Just- let's just go" said I, trying to stabilise my shaking legs. He nodded and we both went out.

When we reached the apartment, I went straight into my room and slammed the door behind me. I only came out for dinner and didn't even bother to look where Sherlock was. At midnight, I heard our front door close and therefore came out to see who it was. It was Sherlock, in the grey tee. As soon as I saw him I went back and closed the door. Later that night, I heard him knock on my door but I pretended to be asleep. I felt Sherlock shaking me and shouting to wake up and I suddenly opened my eyes. He said that he needs my help as another murder had taken place, of the similar kind as today's. I argued that I already felt weak in my spirits and body so I couldn't be of much use but he pressed on. Finally, I got up and got dressed. We hurriedly left the apartment and I took my gun with me. On arriving at the scene somebody said that the body was gone and they couldn't find it anywhere in the near abouts, Sherlock muttered something about incompetent allies and made his way to the crime scene. Whereas I was still frozen in my place, not by the news of the missing body but by hearing my name in a street which was almost empty. I tried to move but couldn't as if something was gripping my legs, I shouted for Sherlock but soon the darkness enveloped me and I could hear someone say my name clearly as if from just behind me. I slowly turned and found a woman staring at me with that bent neck. I tried to shout for Sherlock one last time, before I began to give in to unconsciousness, I could hear footsteps and shouting in the background but was too cataleptic to respond.

And then I woke up with a start.

The next morning, almost at eight, I saw him on the sofa with his head tilted back and hands in the middle of his legs which were outstretched in front of him. Eyes closed and breathing softly. I saw his phone, it had Stanley's unopened _Thank you_ message, which told me that the case at hand was solved and which also explained Sherlock's current state.

I went near him, careful not to make any sound. He was still in his yesterday's clothes which aroused unknown desires in me. Well, unknown only with respect to him. I knew he had dated no one, which was because he thought it was not essential. It's even a puzzle to understand how he knew that he was gay. I went and sat next to him. Even this did not wake him up which meant I was free to do anything.

My hands were soon in his hair and slowly slid to his neck. His body relaxed and his face was in my direction now. He looked so innocent, it was hard not to kiss him. He moved his hands and I withdrew mine. He slowly opened his eyes and said, "What are you doing?"

I had no answer, so I stood up and turned to go but his voice stopped me. "John," the firmness in his voice was enough to stop millions of John. I turned to face him and to respond with a lie, "I was looking at you. I rarely see you sleeping." said I with a smile.

"Oh," and after a long pause he said, "Want to know about the bent woman's case?"

"Nope. Thank you very much but I choose my sanity."

He smiled and said, "I heard you shouting in your sleep. Nightmare?" I seated myself in my chair and nodded. He handed me a cup of tea. I looked at him with surprise but took the cup anyway. It was too cold as if from yesterday "I made it for you last night."

I smiled at him but quickly placed the cup aside.

"Also why did you put your hands in my hair and neck?" asked he with an expression of a very confused man.

"I thought I saw an insect." said I, again lying.

"Oh. Thank you." The rest of the day I felt like a criminal and was avoiding Sherlock at all costs.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do you want to watch a movie?" asked he, at eleven in the night. Maybe he wasn't able to sleep.

"Sure." said I.

After all the avoiding I had missed him.

He had popcorn in his hands which were only his, according to him, because they were in his hands. I told him that it was stupid logic to which he said stupid or not, it was logic. It was a horror movie with pieces of comedy here and there.

Sherlock seemed unaffected by either the horror or the comedy whereas I was the exact opposite. By the time the movie ended I was almost on Sherlock. He didn’t say anything but cautiously moved the popcorn away from me.

“Didn’t you like the movie?” asked Sherlock as he switched off the T.V.

“No, it was pretty good.”

“Then why did you close your eyes every now and then?” asked he, turning towards me.

“Well, I was scared.” said I, smiling.

“Oh. Also-”

“Yeah?”

“Please move from my left leg. I kinda cannot feel it.”

“I’m sorry.” said I, nervously laughing.

I got up to go to my bedroom but Sherlock sat where he was.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” said I, with unnecessary softness in my voice for which I mentally kicked myself.

“I don’t know.” said he looking up to me.

Nowadays, it was hard for me to look away when he was looking at me and his words seemed like melted chocolate.

“Well, let me stay up with you. I always wondered what you did when most people slept.”

Ignoring the sarcasm in my voice, he said “At your own risk.”

The whole night was very boring. Sherlock used the night to think in the very position I found him in the morning. Sometimes I thought he fell asleep but obviously he hadn’t.

Turns out he knew me better than I did myself, given how immersed I was, in both him and my work.


	3. Chapter 3

### The Benefits Of Falling Ill

Sherlock had texted, called and read but no case was of interest so he was pretty much on a holiday which was the ‘worst thing to happen to someone’ and is ‘really boring’.

While I was a fragile little fellow, the last night’s ‘At your own risk’ was for some reason. I felt very weak in my legs, my head spun if I tried to do pretty much anything and almost the whole time, I felt nauseous.

Sherlock flashed his _I-know-it-all_ smile when I told him about the same. I asked him to help and he readily agreed, which was quite strange.

He helped me to my room but when we realized that Sherlock had zero knowledge in taking care of someone, I was carried to the sofa.

“Please make me some soup and bring sheets to cover me.” said I. 

Sherlock went into his room and brought his sheets, I was going to object but the next thing he said made me go quite, “How do you make soup?”

“ _What?_ ” said I truly annoyed but also surprised.

“How do-”

“I heard you.”

“Then?”

“How do you even don’t know how to make a thing as simple as soup?” 

“Well, how do you see a man, with long and equal strides, soft voice but firm manner and not very elegant but neat clothes, and are not able to deduce that he’s an army or an ex-army official?”

That shut me up and I slowly explained him the process of how to make soup.

I informed Sherlock that I was going to sleep, just as I had finished the soup, to which he asked if I wanted to hear a story, which I think was sarcastic, though his expressions were very genuine. I said no, regretting the same.

The smell of the sheets was very _Sherlock-y_ and it actually helped me sleep.

When I woke up, it was almost seven in the evening. I couldn’t see Sherlock or for that matter, anything. It took sometime but I soon saw that he was in his recliner. I got up and switched on the lights. I guess he was thinking about something because he didn’t even wince when I did the same.

“John.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Do you think that it’s-” and he suddenly stopped.

“I’m listening.”

He looked at me with very sad eyes and dropped his head back on the recliner. I almost ran to him and sat near his feet with my hands on his knees.

“Sherlock, what is it?” I didn’t know that I could have a firm voice too. He sat upright and with a small smile said, “Is it alright to get scared for your friend when he’s just a little sick?” He said this with a hint of fear but mostly innocence in his voice.

“Yes, Sherlock, yes it is completely alright.” said I, trying to soothe a man who I thought didn’t have feelings, until now.  
He got up from his recliner and sat next to me on the floor. I guess I saw his trembling hands but he quickly put them between his crossed legs. He looked at me for awhile with confusion but suddenly making a decision he said,

“I’ve these- these visions, these assumptions that you’re sick because of some old villain whom I put behind the bars. It scares me, John, when I think I might be the reason you die.” 

As he said the last words his whole body convulsed. I quickly took his hands in mine and forced him to look at me, which he ignored, “Sherlock, look into my eyes.” said I firmly, “Do you see any doubt in them?”

“No, but-”

“No, Sherlock, there are no buts. I trust you and I know you’ll never let anything happen to me. Even if something does happen,” I placed my hand on his right cheek, “I’ll never blame you, nor will you. You’ll get that bastard and kick his ass.” said I smiling, but with tears in my eyes.

“You’re crying. Did I do or say something wrong?” said he with still trembling hands and perplexity in his eyes and features.

“ _No_ , not at all. You showed that you do feel. And as it was for me, it made me immensely happy.”

He finally stopped shaking and tried to smile. I got him to stand and walked with him to his room while he kept repeating to himself, ‘I told you so.’

“What did you tell, Sherlock?”

“That holiday is the worst thing to happen to someone.”

He asked me to stay with him in his room when he tried to sleep. I got our sheets and everything into his room and made us some crepe which we ate in silence. I brought the book I was reading and sat beside Sherlock on his bed while he tried to sleep. It took him two hours to fall asleep. Thankfully, we had retired to bed early so he could get a good night’s sleep. Or so had I thought.

He woke up at two in the morning and went to the toilet. Hurt his toe on the way back. I was still in my sitting position and somehow today had become a light sleeper. So even when he moved his leg, I woke up. In the meantime, I tried to tell myself that I just had a crush on him which would eventually go away but when I looked at him all these thoughts seemed mere lies.

He told me to sleep but I refused and told him that I wanted to take care of him. He argued that I could look after him even by lying down but I refused. He gave up. He tried to sleep but couldn’t. He soon got up and got his violin. As happy as I was to hear him play, I was equally unhappy with him for not resting. But it was too much to ask from Sherlock and knew I had to be content with his three hour nap.

He played a very, very sad song which I couldn’t recognize. He usually played with his eyes closed but today they were fixed on me. Observing the confusion on my face he asked, “What?”

“What song is this?”

“Oh, I made this one.” said he, genuinely smiling after the incident.

I couldn’t help it as a smile crept on my face. After playing the song once more he put down his violin and said, “Do you believe in ghosts?” 

“No.”

“Then, why were you so scared yesterday?”

“Well, as you know that nothing you do would harm me but you’re still scared. It’s the same. You just get caught up in the moment.”

“So you care about ghosts?”

“No, I don’t even-”

“Then how is it the same?”

“Wait, are you saying that you care about me?”

“Isn’t looking after someone and trying to help them, caring?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, then I care about you.”  
This left me speechless. I knew he worried for me but caring was a very big word. I guess I blacked out for a second because when I returned Sherlock wasn’t there.

“Sherlock.” I shouted.

“Wait up.” came a reply from the kitchen.

He returned with two glasses of water. He handed me one and then drank from the one in his hand. After finishing he said, “You remember you asked that if I could see any doubt in your eyes and I replied ‘No, but-?’ ”

“Yes, clearly.”

“The complete sentence was: No, but _how_ is one able to see doubt in someone’s eyes?”

And I laughed.

### His Normal Is Our Abnormal

The next morning, Sherlock came out of his room dressed in blue pants, an untucked black shirt with folded sleeves and messy, wet hair. The serious look had returned on his face and he looked both cool _and_ hot. This was even better than the sports tee.

He looked at me for awhile and made a weird face, “Why in the world aren’t you dressed?”

“Nobody told me to get dressed.”

“Well, let me call your mother for the same.”

I smiled as the Sherlock everyone knew had returned. I got up and got dressed. It was almost twelve and he was as annoyed as he possibly could be.

“Can you, for once, not be staring at me with that weird expression?” said he and I looked away bashfully.

“Thank you. We’re going out for lunch.” said he.

“ _What?_ Are you asking me out?”

He looked at me as if I had said something really stupid. After all the staring he went out without a word and I followed suit.  
He had borrowed Mycroft’s bike. “Why didn’t you tell me about the bike? Now, wait here I’ll go bring my jacket.”

“No need to. You can stay close to me, as such I’m not wearing one either.”

Well, I guess somebody had played with his brains. I sat behind him with my hands around his waist. 

“Why are you acting so, so-”

“Nice?”

“No, I mean yes but the word I was looking for was- yes! Abnormal.” 

“What are you talking about? I’m behaving as a perfectly normal man.”

Which was exactly the problem, Sherlock behaving as a normal person. I knew it was no use asking further. So I grabbed him tightly for the simple reason that it was cold or maybe because I liked it.

It was a sweet little place, the restaurant. Not many people were there and surely no one was there on a bike. I pointed that out for Sherlock which he dismissed with a _hmm_.

He said that I should order. I knew some of his tastes, which were very few because he hated food altogether. I ordered the same for both of us and we sat in silence until the food arrived. 

He was texting someone, very fast, which was unusual because one, never texted and two, even if he did it was with the speed of 1 word per minute. I wondered who he was texting and as soon as he saw the waiter heading towards our table he put his phone in his pocket and smiled at me.

“I’ve a few things to tell you about.” said he with a grave expression on his face.

“I’m all ears.” said I, digging into my food.

“Well, I know that you like me.” As soon as he said the same I was almost choking on my food and coughed a little. I could feel his penetrating gaze on me and he pointed at the glass of water which I gladly took.

“How do you-” 

“You were acting quite, well, not _John-like_. I was confused and asked Mycroft about the same. At first he said that you wanted to kill me but I said that it isn’t possible so he told me that you possibly liked me.”

I sat there silent. He didn’t say anything further but raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I do like you. But if you don’t, um, understand and feel the same, it’s totally alright.”

“Now, the other thing.” said he as if whatever I had said went unheard.

“I asked Mycroft about the changes in my behavior which are: thinking about you when I’m on a case and caring for you. He said maybe in the future I might start liking you.”

“Oh.”

“Mycroft also said that if you have any questions you could contact him.”

“I’d rather talk to you.”

“As you wish. Do you have anything to say?”

“No.”

“Well, then let’s eat.”


	4. Chapter 4

### The Dance

It was a Monday morning and I was supposed to be at practice early but I had overslept and was now hurriedly dressing up when I heard Stanley’s voice from the living room.

I called the clinic and asked to only inform me when there’s any emergency. As such for the last few days, I had had very less patients. I went out dressed in casuals but with the most charming smile I could put on.

Sherlock was sitting on his recliner whereas Stanley was on the floor. On asking why, Sherlock said that he was going to sit in my recliner and when refused, Stanley took to the floor. This made me genuinely smile.

“Does anyone want anything from the kitchen?” said I, as sweetly as possible.

“Yes, Sherlock wants some iced tea,” replied Stanley.

“No, I _don’t_ ,” came a curt reply from Mr. Focused.

Stanley chuckled and Sherlock threw him an agitated glance which brought him back to the purpose of his visit.

I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of cold coffee. I was making my way to my recliner when Stanley unnecessarily stretched his leg and I tripped and half the coffee fell on Sherlock.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry.” cried Stanley while moving his hands all over Sherlock, which maybe was to clean the coffee but, the hands also went where there was no spill.

I couldn’t take it anymore and with one hand almost lifted Stanley and threw him out of the apartment. After slamming the door on his face I turned to Sherlock who was sitting with both his eyebrows raised.

“What in the world-”

“Before you get all grumpy, I want to make it clear that he keeps trying on you and it makes me angry.”

“Why?” said he, with an unimaginable softness in his voice.  
“Because I fucking like you.”

“Isn’t what Stanley feels for me the same as you do?” I nodded my approval.

“Then what you just did can be said as one John throwing out another John.”

“ _No!_ It’s very different. I don’t keep forcing myself on you.”

“Why don’t you then?” said he, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile playing on his face.

I quickly covered the distance between us and was now almost inches from him. He must’ve thought that I was going to kiss him because when I pulled him up and started dancing with him, he kinda was in a daze.

But soon he took over and now I was following him. I didn’t think that he would’ve been a better dancer than me, not that I was some world class professional dancer, but the man who thought eating is a waste of time must not know how to dance, right?

Whatever it might be, it was a lovely morning. 

I got a call from the clinic and was away for rest of the day. When I came back, I saw Sherlock with his laptop, typing furiously. I decided to freshen up first and then talk to him.

“What are you doing?” said I, walking towards him.

“Work.” he said without looking away from the screen. 

The room was dimly lit and the light from the screen illuminated his face. I, very badly, had to control myself from devouring him right then and there.

I saw that a site was loading up and had the _I’m not a robot_ box displayed which Sherlock was just going to click on but stopped when I snorted. 

He looked up at me and said, “What?”

“Are you sure you’re really a human?” as soon as I said it, I laughed.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure.” his voice hinted that he was offended but a small smile also played on his lips.

### The Thought Or Maybe Thoughts

It was a cold and windy Wednesday night. The howling of wind had woken me up. I went to get some water and saw Sherlock sitting on the sofa, in the dark. I turned on the side lamp and sat next to him.

“What are you thinking about now? Didn’t you just solve the Goldman case?”

“I did. I was just pondering upon the existence of human life.” said he, slowly opening his eyes and facing me.

“What exactly were you thinking?”

“I was thinking why are we even alive? Why doesn’t the human kind just end? Are my works of bringing justice in vain when man is itself the enemy? Also, given that the universe is so big and still expanding, are all my worries, efforts and talents useless? Isn’t man useless in this so big a space? Taking into account all our tries to study the dynamic universe, don’t people understand that we are just an accident and there’s nothing to really boast about? Their petty problems, reasons and feelings are just nothing. Yet, it seems like it’s everything. Do you follow me, John?”

I stared at him with an open mouth which he closed by pushing it up with his right hand. I thought for awhile before saying anything, “I don’t think you’re entirely wrong but since when do you know about the universe and stuff?”

"I had some newly freed space in my brain” said he smiling. 

“Though your little speech made my profession look even more stupid than I thought it was.” said I with a nervous laugh.

“How so?” said he with a puzzled expression.

“At least you’re punishing some of them while I’m treating any and every person that walks in my clinic.

“Hmm.”

That was the last I could get out of him before he went back into his deep thinking. I returned to my room and as soon as my body touched the bed, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I went to work sharp at seven in the morning and returned only at nine in the evening. I couldn’t see Sherlock so I had my dinner and went to bed. The same thing happened for the next few weeks and I saw very little of Sherlock.

Then came Christmas and I received my long awaited gift.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit Content.

### The Gift

You all are familiar with Sherlock’s habit, or should I say, hobby of arranging a little drama to prove a simple point.

On thanksgiving, we had a big fight of sorts on his usual absence on Christmas Eve. I had firmly told him to be present at seven in the evening on Christmas.

The whole day, of 25th , he was absent from the house. The doorbell rang exactly at seven in the evening. I was very annoyed at him but when I saw him…..

His white shirt was completely red in the torso region, the bleeding had taken away all the color from his face and he was very weak in his legs.

“ _Sherlock!_ ” shouted I and almost carried him and carefully seated him on the sofa. “What the fuck happened? Let me take your shirt off and bring the first-aid box.”

I removed his shirt and saw that the blood wasn’t his but it was being sprayed out from a bag. As soon as I saw it, I fell on the floor while that idiot kept smiling. I stood up and said, “ _You bastard!_ Do you even-” but I couldn’t go any further for the waterworks had begun and I went into my room and locked the door.

After about two hours, I had calmed myself down and was ready to confront him.

“Sherlock.” I shouted from my room.

“In here,” came his voice from the kitchen. I quickly went to see what he was doing now.

He was making lemon water. On asking why, he said that he couldn’t think of any other way to apologize. We drank the lemon juice in the kitchen and then he took my hand in his and walked me to the sofa. He made me sit down and sat down beside me, still shirtless and with that bag of fake blood. He removed the bag and handed it to me and motioned me to look inside. There was a slip of paper which I opened. On it was written:

_I like you too.  
Can I kiss you now?  
Also, I apologize for the blood and for scaring you.  
_

The apology part was scribbled with a pencil. I looked up to him and he smiled. He bent towards me and put his right hand on my left cheek. I slapped it away. Surprised by this he sat there like a child who was denied of his chocolate bar. Taking pity on him I said, “Try again.” with a smile on my face.

His features quickly changed and he again looked the confident and witty man I knew and liked. He came closer and put both his hands on my neck and kissed me.

His soft but robust lips caressed mine as if his life depended on them. His tongue slowly found it’s way into my mouth. His fervor affecting me, I put my hands in his hair and gently pushed and pulled. I felt his smile. Suddenly, he pushed me down on the sofa and I was staring up at him. With one quick kiss, he stood up and held out his hand to me, “Care to finish this in the bedroom?”

I quickly got up and went with him.

The rest of the night was pretty fun.

* * *

Sherlock was sleeping peacefully when I got up. It was always a delight to watch him sleep. With a quick kiss on his forehead, I got up and went to the toilet, got dressed and then made tea for the both of us.

I kept the tray on the side-table and sat on the corner of the bed. I slid my fingers on his bare chest to which his eyes flew open and in a fraction of a second he had hands on my waist and had brought me to the other side of the bed, next to him. The next few minutes I was flooded with kisses which made me forget the intention of causing disturbance in his sleep.

Finally, I put my hand on his lips and said, “You are such a romantic,” with a sarcastic smile to which he said nothing but tried to remove my hand.

“Listen to me, Sherlock.” Now I had got all his attention just because I had made my voice seem a bit serious.

“What is it?” asked he with his usual grave expression.

“Oh, nothing so serious. I thought of having breakfast with Mycroft, Lestrade and Stanley. Could you please stay home for that?”

“Why so suddenly?”

“Well, one, to tell everyone about us and, two, to shout ‘In your face’ at Stanley.”

He laughed and was about to get up when I pushed him back.

“It’s just eight in the morning and I’ve called them at ten.

We’ve more than an hour to ourselves,” He smiled his mischievous smile.

“Now, time to return all the kisses I got for no apparent reason.”

We had breakfast as planned with our three friends but Stanley was surprisingly well-behaved and was even happy for us.


	6. Chapter 6

### Give Him A Break!

As our relationship grew older, I realized that love and attention wasn’t something that was absent from Sherlock’s life but it was something which he required in abundance. As for him, the biggest realization until now was that I loved flowers because they had a nice smell and created a romantic atmosphere and not because they helped in the process of reproduction of plants.

The few days after Christmas were really, really great. Until he had that Watson’s case (no, not me). Before leaving he said, “Guess now I’ll be thinking of some other Watson,” and smiled while I hit him playfully.

He had said that he’d try to return before new year’s eve but that was just because I had made him repeat it after me. I knew very little of the case as he had left so hurriedly but the brief facts were: Watson was being blackmailed with some of his photos with different ladies, just sipping coffee. But the client seemed so scared only by looking at those photos that he couldn’t even utter a complete sentence. Sherlock had only gone there because Lestrade had said that the new evidence is very promising. What the new evidence was, I didn’t know.  
I couldn’t join him because of my poor health. Even a bit of exertion would make me a zombie. I posted a notice in my clinic regarding the same and was just walking home when I heard my phone ring. It was Sherlock.

“Hey, Sherry!” said I. Sherry were one of the few names that I used to annoy him.

“Stop damaging my brain cells.” came a very angry reply.

“So, what’s up?”

“Oh, yeah. I solved the Watson case, was very simple. That blind Lestrade couldn’t even see that the coffee shop’s names were the clue and not the women. Also, the new _promising_ evidence was a garbage bag with lots of money which Watson had himself put out. He was simply trying to distract us from something big that’s going to happen. So I’m going to check on it too. I’m sorry if I’m not there when you wished me to be.” And he hung up.

Well, at least my guy was truthful and open, which always gets confused with too straightforward and rude, but that’s okay as I understood him. I texted him to stay safe to which he, obviously, didn’t reply.

I didn’t get any calls or texts from Sherlock after that. Being an affable fellow I was thoroughly bored and felt dejected. So I went to Mycroft and then to Percy Phelps as well but still felt the same. Maybe it was because I missed him.

At 12:15 am, on New Year’s, he called and said, “Happy New Year. I love you.” and hung up. I smiled at his little ways but suddenly realized that he had said I love you.

I quickly texted him, ‘What the fuck is I love you?’ to which he replied, ‘The fuck that I feel for you.’

We had a long talk ahead of us.

I can’t say that my health was getting any better, given that I was in constant worry for that idiot who once had thought that it was fun to blast the kitchen, just because we didn’t use it that much or maybe there was some other reason which he thought was best not to tell me. That was the day since when I had started cooking for the both of us.

Almost ten days gone by and I missed him a lot. I had many a times picked up the phone to call him but didn’t want to disturb his focus, so had put it back down. I was sitting in my recliner thinking of how childish he could behave sometimes but then also become the man of my dreams. I remember when we had first met I thought that he had a multiple personality disorder but soon understood that’s just who he is. A witty, innocent and arrogant bastard.

I was just sinking into his thoughts when the door burst open and fell on the floor.

“ _What the_ -”

“Shh.”

I couldn’t believe him. He had thrown open the whole door and had made as much noise as possible and was now shushing me!?

Oh, for your information, it was Sherlock.

After a few minutes of me glaring at him and he completely ignoring them, he came in and took hold of my hand, dragged me into the bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“Are you going to say something?”

“No.”

That was it, I couldn’t make him talk any further.

After about an hour, he went out and sat down with his tools to fix the door ignoring my every plea to answer any of my questions. Soon I gave up and went to make dinner, completely annoyed. He was done very soon and then came into the kitchen and hugged me from behind. I didn’t pay any heed to whatever he did next and it took a lot of effort for the same.

He moved away from me and stood beside me with a glass of water in his hand.

“Did you not miss me?” said he with a very soft voice which I couldn’t ignore.

“I did and a lot. But what just happened, and your ignorant behavior has upset me.” said I with anger evident in my voice.

“I see. How can I make you to pay attention to me again and maybe happy?”

“By telling the truth about whatever the fuck happened outside.”

“Other than that.”

“Just go away, Sherlock.”

He stood there for awhile and a few minutes later I heard the front door close. I suddenly wanted to cry. I walked into the living room and towards the door.

I put my head to it and screamed and soon was a trembling mess. I locked the door and sat with my head to it. I didn’t understand what this sudden burst was about. I knew I missed him a lot but this was pure rage.

It was already two days since that incident and he hadn’t showed up or tried to contact me. I was eating my lunch alone when I couldn’t take it anymore and called him. 

“Sherlock?” said I trying to control the inner rage.

“Yes, John?” came his reply almost as deadpan as ever.

“Why did you leave?”

“I don’t understand. You asked me to leave and judging from your tone you seem angry even though I completely followed your instructions.”

I sighed and said, “Just come back.”

“Sure.”

I heard a knock on the door within minutes of hanging up.

“Where the heck were you?” said I as I took in his appearance. 

His clothes looked like they were taken out from a garbage bag, his beautiful face was battered with something black and he looked even more thin.

“On the streets.” he said it so simply as if it was his second home. Well, who knew, it might as well have been.

“ _Why?_ ”

“You told me to go away but I wanted to stay near you. I couldn’t think of a better place than the streets so I stayed there until you called.”

“ _You could’ve stayed with Mrs. Hudson!?_ ”

“I’d rather prefer the streets.” said he bluntly.

I got him some water and tea. He said he wanted to freshen up first and so did the same. He came out wearing black pants and a light blue shirt with his blue dressing gown. With naked feet he came and sat on the sofa, near me.

As soon as he had seated himself, I kissed him. A long passionate kiss which he returned with equal intensity, saying more than he could ever do with words. After parting, I said “Don’t you ever leave me like that. Even if I say so.” and hugged him. Though he didn’t return the same.

I said, with face buried into his neck, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t follow you. If you don’t want me to leave then why do you say so?” confusion evident in his voice.

I didn’t release him and spoke in the same position as before, “I don’t know how to explain you this. Huh, consider this. When you think someone is going to harm me would you stay by my side or go away?”

“What kind of a question is that? I would obviously stay with you and protect you.” said he raising his voice slightly.

“Same way, when my emotions are harming me. I want you by my side.” said I and kissed his neck.

“I’m sorry, John.” said he while putting his hands around me.


	7. Chapter 7

### And He Got One For Himself

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. I had just woken up when I saw Sherlock making tea. It really was a great sight. Cute butt moving gracefully, hands so fast as if catching fish and mouth uttering countless curses to anything which didn’t behave as expected. I went and stood beside him.

  
“You sleep too much. I’ve waited for 10 hours and 27 minutes to tell you something.” said he, glancing at me from time to time.

  
“I’ve told you to wake me up whenever you need me.”  
“Then you will end up not sleeping ever. Also we’re going on a holiday,” he said this with his usual deadpan voice but only I, or maybe you guys, would know how great both of those sentences were for me.

  
“Really? You are taking me on a _H-O-L-I-D-A-Y_?”

  
“I know the spelling of holiday. And yes, lying about the same won’t-”

  
“Shut up.” And I pushed him to face me and jumped on him.

  
“Our _teaaa_ -”

  
“Yeah as if after last time I was going to drink that.”  
He smiled and hugged me.

  
After being forcefully removed from Sherlock by Sherlock, I asked, “But why?”

  
“I just wanted to spend a few days with you.” Said he nervously smiling.

  
I was supposed to exercise everyday, right after I had woken up. He had prepared a daily routine for me and if not followed well, then no Sherlock for me that day. All this was to boost my stamina and immunity, which had really deteriorated. It was really funny, given that I’m supposed to be the doctor amongst us.

  
“What about my daily routine when we’re on our holiday?” asked I, removing my sweat drenched clothes.

  
“Don’t worry. We’ll do things to keep up with it.”

  
“I don’t want to do things. I want to do Sherlock.”

  
He looked up at me and smiled, “Well, a lot of doing Sherlock and a bit of doing things.”

  
I went to take a shower while only thinking about what he had just said. After finally being dressed, I sat in my recliner to seriously talk about the holiday. 

  
“When do we leave?” asked I, to a slightly irritated Sherlock who was trying to read some sheets of paper.

  
“Tomorrow, 7 a.m.”

  
“ _What!_ I haven’t packed. You haven’t packed. And what about all the things we have to do before leaving? It’s already twelve and-”

  
I was stopped by his finger pointing to the front door where two bags stood.

  
“Packing is done. All the other errands are being carried out as we speak. You can relax and let me do my work." I nodded and went away into my room, thinking who the hell was the man in our living room.

  
It was about six when Sherlock came in and sat beside me.

  
“You didn’t have your lunch. Why?”

  
“I don’t feel like eating, Sherlock.”

  
“You’re only excused for today. So, have anything for us to do together?”

  
“Yes! Make hot chocolate, play some movie and cuddle.”

  
“We did that yesterday, day before yesterday- We do that almost everyday.”

  
“No, we don’t do that when you run away somewhere or when I’m angry with you.”

  
“Hence, _almost_."

  
I rolled my eyes. “Have any other ideas?”

  
“Yes. Dancing with you, then a nice dinner and finally sleeping peacefully together.”

  
“Sherlock, did you eat something funny?”

  
“No.”

  
“Did you fall down on your head?”

  
“Recently? No.”

  
“Nevermind I-”

  
“So whose idea are we-”

  
“Yours.”

  
“Good.” And he smiled and disappeared into thel livingroom and soon I heard his violin playing.

“Are you not- Oh, when did you record it?” asked I looking at him.

  
“Doesn’t matter, it’s here for you whenever you wish to hear it even if I’m not there.” He smiled though sadness was somewhat evident in his eyes.

  
“Um, thanks?”

  
“Shall we?”

  
And we danced for almost an hour before following the rest of his idea.


	8. Chapter 8

### The Winds

It was three in the morning when I heard Sherlock shouting something in, which I think was Japanese.

“What the hell?” said I, as I saw Sherlock sticking out his head from the window. “Impressive. You’re up early.”

“No, I’m not up early. You’re the idiot who’s awake late at night.”

“Same thing.” Said he and put his lips to mine.

He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. After throwing me on the bed, he pounced on me and engaged in a battle of tongues fighting for dominance. He was fumbling with shirt buttons when he said something which was quite weird and maybe about himself. I don’t remember it quite well as the next chain of incidents were quite interesting. I replied with, “Bite me.” He plunged down and went and did exactly that. I was feeling somewhere between ‘ **SHERLOCK!** ’ and ‘ _Sherlock!_ ’ When he came back up an saw the expression on my face, he frowned.

“What now?” said he with exasperation.

“Nothing. Just that it wasn’t something I told you to do, I was just replying to your statement before.” I let out a laugh and he got up from above me to perch himself beside me.

“l thought we were again doing the commander thing.” Said he with a smug smile, evidently satisfied with his retort.

“Shut up.” And I turned to face the other way and soon fall asleep.

We were about to leave when Sherlock pulled me closer to him and whispered in my ear, “We’ve a lot of fun ahead of us.”

He kissed me but this time it was gentle and calming.

I didn’t even know our destination. You might think that I’m stupid but if you have a leopard as a companion, you can’t even catch glimpses of your own ticket. After being seated in the airplane, Sherlock elbowed me to my seat and was talking to the air hostess. After a good five minutes he came and settled beside me.

“Don’t disturb me.” Said he and kissed me on the forehead and then pulled on his sleep mask which had weird hearts on it which made me snicker.

Soon, I was really bored. The seat on the other side of me was empty and Sherlock sat in the aisle seat, preventing me from making any small talk with others. I put my head on his shoulder and draped my left arm around him. I felt him smiling and soon relaxed. I guess I fell asleep cause when I woke up I had an overly annoyed Sherlock looking down at me.

“What?” said I drawing small circles with my left hand on his thigh.

“It’s about time to put on seatbelts and you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t decide on if I should wake you up or not. When I finally decided on the latter and tried to buckle up your seatbelt myself- I woke you up.” said he, exasperation clear in his voice.

I sighed and smiled at him while fastening my seatbelt. Then bended over to hug him and kissed him, “Aren’t you the cutest!?”

“If you say so.” said he, smirking.

We were in Amsterdam. It was already three in the afternoon and Sherlock looked in a hurry to get to the hotel. After arriving at the hotel, we were almost dragged to our room where our luggage joined us shortly.

It was a great room with a large window at the end and a bed facing the same. Decorated with all the essential furniture for a bedroom. Overall, it was a sweet place for a temporary stay.

I jumped on the bed and pulled a blanket over me, Sherlock was talking to someone at the door. As soon as he saw me in the bed he shouted, “NO!” then came running to me and propped himself beside me.

“I gave you enough time to rest in the plane. Get up and if you want to change then do the same, cause we’re going out.”

“But I want to rest and cuddle with you.” said I, almost whining.

He just stared at me as if saying, ‘Did I bring you some 300 miles away to do the exact same thing that we did back home?!’

“Sorry but it looks like it’s going to rain soon.” said I, sitting up.

“Rain soon, right? Not raining. So get up, NOW!” with that he got up and went to his bag.

“Also, if you’re not standing at the door in five minutes I’ll dump you in Amsterdam and go back.” He said it without the slightest humor in his voice.

I quickly got up and went to look for another t-shirt. Soon I heard him chuckling. He came out of the bathroom wearing a blue shirt and previously worn grey pants with black converse whereas I was wearing a checked black shirt on dark blue jeans with white shoes.

I took his hand in mine and we walked out.

“Today we’re just going to walk, hand-in-hand or however you wish to.” said he, smiling.

I quickly removed my hand from his and put it in his back pocket. Without missing a beat, he put his arm around my waist.

The weather was pleasant, not too cold and not too hot. The winds blew from time to time and left me shivering, to which Sherlock responded by drawing me closer.

“So, what’s up?” asked I, as I put my head on his shoulder.

“Other than enjoying the company of my love, nothing much.” said he, in his usual tone.

“No. Something’s going on. The Sherlock Holmes doesn’t just take some John Watson on holidays.”

Not that we had never gone out but whenever we had, it was either because I was all over the place or after begging for it a lot.

He stiffened on hearing my words but quickly relaxed and said, “What some John Watson? Also I just wanted to apologize and spend all my time with you, for a few days.”

“Apologize for what?” asked I, and drew my head to his chest as another wind blew past us.

“About all the things I’ve hidden from you and have never paid any heed to your questions regarding the same. But now, I guess, I can answer all your questions.”

“No, it’s fine. But yeah at least tell me what the fuck was really happening when you had broken our door.”

“Oh yeah,” he said nervously laughing and I saw him clenching his right hand into a fist, “ I had informed you that something big was going to happen. I had soon found out what it was and who was behind it. As they learned that their secret was exposed they tried to kill me. But they thought you were Sherlock and were making their way to our home when I called out to them and pretended to be sent by their boss. They believed me, pathetic fools, as I said their boss’s name and for a just in case had to put up a little drama to entirely convince them.”

“Hmm. So, who was behind it?”

“Oh, um-”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to say it.” said I, looking up at him. He smiled and kissed me and I kissed him back.

“Sweet. You guys married?” We broke from our kiss to see an old lady smiling at us. Before I could respond with a no, Sherlock replied, “Not yet.”


	9. Chapter 9

### Dessert

The old woman went away saying something about how love is so pure and rare but I was still hung up on his ‘not yet’.

“Is this what it is? I mean you’re going to propose here, aren’t you?”

He smiled and kissed my forehead and said, “Not yet.”

I kept questioning him but soon gave up and you all know why. After walking for about an hour, we went back to our room. It was getting dark outside and we had this spectacular view of the city from the window.

He sat on a chair and was removing his shoes while I was already on the bed, staring outside.

“What do you want for dinner?” said he looking at a small book which I presumed was the menu.

“You.” Said I plainly and looked at him.

He slowly raised his eyes to meet mine and in a low voice said, “That’s for dessert, sir. What do you want in the main course?”

I chuckled and got up to take a look at the menu and sat in his lap. He put his head on my chest and closed his eyes.

“I’ll have some herring and a mint tea.” Said I eagerly as I realized how hungry I was.

“What do you want, Sherlock?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.” Said he in a desolate voice and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything but let out a sigh. I thought he’d never reply, as usual, but unexpectedly he spoke, “I love to hear your heart beat. It might sound weird but I want to hear it when I’m sad or happy or angry or just every time.”

He looked up and stared at me for an answer but when I didn’t speak for quite a while, he frowned. I smiled and stood up. His face grew pale but when I held out my hand he grasped it in a fraction of a second. I beckoned him to stand up, which he did.

I lifted his right hand and placed it on my chest while put his left hand on his chest and stood there silently. He soon realized that the beats were synchronized and his eyes widened a bit.

“What the-”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know this. The most cheesy action and the romantic doesn’t know about it?” said I and chuckled though he still stood there with the same expression as before.

“If you ever want to hear mine just put your hand on your chest.” Said I and with that he removed his hands and pulled me into his arms and started…crying? I pulled back instantly and saw a teary-eyed and red Sherlock. A tear fell on my hand, I wanted to say something to comfort him but I just froze there.

“Doc, I guess then I’ll have to shoot the both of us sometime,” said he, his expressions changing back to his cold self.

“What?! Why?”

“You know since our hearts are in sync and I don’t want to break-”

I didn’t let him finish that wretched sentence as I put my lips to his and after breaking apart said, “Sometimes you are just the romantic but then again you also fuck everything up with your stupid cold-heartedness.”

I was trying hard to maintain a straight face but when he burst out laughing I couldn’t control myself.

When I moved closer again he kissed my forehead and walked away to the phone and said, “Now let’s order the main course. The dessert is almost ready.”

I smirked and sat on the bed staring out the window while he placed the order. After hanging up, he sat on the chair and took up the newspaper to read. Only in a few minutes he set it aside and looked at me.

“Do you have any knowledge in the field of psychology?” asked he, crossing his legs and leaning back.

Hearing those words made my eyes lit up and I replied enthusiastically, “Yes! Sciences of human brain and it’s functions, especially those affecting behaviour in a given context. I loved it and wanted to become a psychiatrist but couldn’t dedicate myself to7-8 years of studying and decided on settling for a general physician. I don’t really regret it but you know how it is when something you really wanted isn’t with you. I do read a lot about it and still can brainstorm with any psychologist/psychiatrist. Do you have any knowledge regarding the same?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then try me.”

His demeanour suddenly changed. He put his hands on his knees and leaned in my direction. His eyes had a certain gleam in them which I had never seen before.

“Let’s start simple- whatever that we’re able to see, is it the exact moment in real time or has it already passed?”

“Has already passed.”

“Know anything about the invisible gorilla experiment?”

“Conducted by Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons when studying inattentional blindness. Want me to explain it?”

“No, that’d suffice.” He talked to me in his incisive and cold voice which he usually used around everyone but me. But I didn’t really mind it as I was too absorbed in the conversation.

“Elaborate on any mental disorder of your choice.”

“MPD?”

He shrugged.

“MPD or Multiple Personality Disorder. Usually caused after the person has endured a lot of emotional or physical abuse, or simply put- result of a traumatic event or accumulation of many. The brain forms one/many identities, mostly to protect itself. When the formed persona takes over, the real being doesn’t remember a thing about it and thinks it was sleeping. Unaware of some other person residing in them, the patients find themselves in weird scenarios and the body may experience fatigue. As far as-”

But I couldn’t go any further as Sherlock was on me, his hands pinning mine above my head and kissing me with absolute urgency. I was taken aback but soon joined in.

He let go, so that he could breathe while I put my hand in between our faces and said, “Have I turned you on by my knowledge, sir?”

“Yes. Now, shut up and let me give you that dessert before dinner arrives.”

I smirked and well, he was doing other things with his mouth.

* * *

I woke up at seven, on a hard and warm chest. On looking up I saw him sleeping peacefully to which I smiled. Even when asleep his hand was tightly bound on my waist, prohibiting me from moving without waking him up.

I knew he’d wake up soon so I decided to think on why was he acting, well, the way he was- in the same position. I didn’t really know much about the big case. Something must’ve happened there. Maybe he was acting and putting up a little show for the villain. Maybe the suspect was in this hotel. Maybe he was going to propose. Or maybe he really wanted to show how much he loved me.

It was nine now and he still hadn’t even moved an inch.

“Sherlock?” I whispered. No answer.

“Sherlock.” Said I slightly raising my voice. No answer.

I shouted, “ _Sherlock!_ ”

He woke up with a start and I chuckled but his words shut me up, “What? Is he here?”

Something was definitely up now.

“What? Who’s _he_? And no, nothing is wrong, I was just trying to wake you up.”

He rubbed his eyes and said, “Whatever the fuck happened to waking me up with kisses.”

I smiled and wiggled out of his grasp while he was staring at the ceiling.

I went away to enjoy a hot bath.


	10. Chapter 10

### The Last Chapter…or maybe not.

I was enjoying my bath when I heard a knock on the door followed by my name.

“It’s open, Locky.” I giggled like a small girl but soon shut up feeling embarrassed on what I was doing.

“No, I have no desire to watch you clean yourself. Also, don’t call me that.” said he in his cold and ironical voice.

“Why are you here then?”

“I’m bored.”

“I don’t think that more than five minutes have passed since I left you alone.” said I with my voice filled with exasperation.

“Nope, 5 minutes and 48- 49-”

“Shut up. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“5 minutes and 58…59”

After exactly a minute, “ _John!_ ”

Thankfully I had wrapped myself in my bathrobe and was just opening the door. After I had put on some clothes he said, “Today we’re supposed to do what you’ll say until 5 p.m. After that we’ll be going out for a dinner which I’ve specially arranged,” his smug but subtle smile soon following.

“Okay. Why don’t we start with a great breakfast?”

“It’s almost 10.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Fine. You order for the both of us, I’ll go shower.”

I let out a sigh and made my way towards the telephone.

He was pulling on his pants- well, he was actually quite struggling with them, slipping every now and then. I smiled at him. The great detective who can catch any criminal in a matter of time, the man of my dreams, the little but equally competitive brother and the darling of my blog readers- couldn’t put on pants. I stared at the great sight in front of me for a while and then turned my attention to the newspaper. Sherlock had taken in the breakfast and was eating it when I set the paper down.

“How long have you gone without food?” asked I while making tea for the both of us.

“I think more than 5 days. I usually don’t keep count. Why?” he didn’t even look at me while saying all that, as if he was ashamed but his tone didn’t agree with that.

“Just wanted to know. And how long without sleep?”

“Almost the same. Again, I don’t keep count.”

The rest of the breakfast, we sat in silence. He drank his tea as if it was water and then later remarked that his tongue felt numb. He seemed distracted with something so I proposed to go out and do some outdoor activity to which he didn’t deny or maybe couldn’t deny.

We decided on horse riding. He looked cool in those knee breeches and all whites whereas I looked like a teddy bear strapped in ropes. He readily disagreed with the lowly opinion that I had of myself but also laughed. I had learnt horse riding when I was a kid and the lessons came back to me easily while Sherlock was having a hard time. At first it seemed he was really getting it but then his horse threw him on the ground. After two more tries he picked another horse which really liked him and then he was riding as comfortably as me. After that we visited some local shops and before we knew it, it was already time to return back to the room.

“You might want to wear something nice for the dinner.”

“Since when do you care about attires and stuff?”

“Since when I got competition.” he looked at me and kissed me on my forehead. Since when could lunatics make you all warm from the inside?

I saw him removing a neatly kept formal vest from his bag and frowned.

“No fair. You get to look all hot and-” his lips shut me up. After we parted he said,

“Don’t complain. Remember I had packed our bags? Have you even gone through it?”

I quickly made my way to the bag. It had a tux in it, I really can’t imagine how I missed this beautiful thing.

“When? How?”

“As always, John. You see but do not observe-”

“Yeah, shut up. Even that gets annoying. You’ve been using it for some 200 years now.”

“What?”

I snickered and said, “Nothing.”

After dressing up we both looked like some model taken straight out of the Vogue. At least he did. He was wearing black pants, white shirt on it a maroon tie and finally a black formal vest. He had folded his sleeves which made it even more great. I was wearing a light blue shirt and on it a beige tux with matching pants.

He had called a few people and it really seemed that something was wrong but then he walked to his bag and took out a slip of paper. He walked towards me and handed out the paper to me. Before I could open it he said, “I read all your works about our cases and some on our daily life. I wanted to do something really nice for you and I kept trying to find the one thing that’d really make you happy but I failed all the time. If I tried to behave like other men, you thought I was being abnormal, if I took you out for a walk you thought I was being weird, if I said I love you- you lectured me about commitment and a lot of things which I didn’t pay attention to, if I listened to your every word and followed it properly you asked me if I was sick and when I said that we might get married in the near future you got all panicky and threw so many questions at me. I couldn’t think of any other way to please you so I finally gave up but as soon as I did you seemed really great about it. At last I decided to do nothing and wrote you this, straight forward and abstracted. Go on, open it.”

It said:

_It’s not that I don’t know,_

_Just that I like when you teach me._

_It’s not that I’m rude,_

_Just that I haven’t known emotions for long._

_It’s not that I can’t make you happy,_

_Just that I want you to find your happiness._

A tear fell on the paper which, was mine. I hadn’t expected anything so deep and vulnerable from Sherlock. He snatched the paper from my hands and I looked up to him. He had confusion and alarm on his face.

“I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I shouldn’t have written-”

“Sherlock, that is one of the best things you’ve ever done. And don’t go snatching it like that. I will really punch you hard if it tears up.”

He grinned like a child but quickly gave it back to me.

“I didn’t know you were trying so hard. I love you.”

He smiled again and said, “The feeling is mutual.”

He held out a hand and I grabbed it. I stood up wiping the tears from my face.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

With that we walked out of the door to our _dinner_ which either held a lot of good things or a lot of bad ones.


End file.
